


The Travels of Rand Farstrider

by Johmega



Series: How It Might Go [4]
Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29843424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johmega/pseuds/Johmega
Summary: In which Rand makes good use of his newfound freedom: time for adventures babey!
Series: How It Might Go [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194077
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	1. A Beginning

Rand wanted to go places. From the moment Moiraine had arrived in Emond’s Field, no, the moment he was  _ born _ , he had been chained to prophecy: everything he did was predetermined. The weight of the world on his shoulders didn’t leave him too much freedom to go as he pleased. But now, all ties were cut. He had absolutely no responsibilities, no obligations to anyone, no impending apocalypse he had to prevent. The only thing he had to decide now, was: 

Where to go first? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special (very) thanks to Zorpisuttle on this one especially. The influence she's had on this fic is extremely large. We bounce ideas around over in the Randland discord server almost every day, its insane. Also credit to her for coming up with the title. Absolutely genius.


	2. Here Be Dragons, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rand goes underwater, and sees some cool fishies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones actually gonna be chapter four or five, only wrote this one before the shara and land of madmen adventure chapters because I had a really solid idea of what I wanted to do. Obv this note will be removed once those two are written.

Rand had been to Shara, he’d been to that strange place to the south where the Sea Folk refused to go. He had not yet gone to Seanchan, he was saving that one for later. Perhaps… perhaps he could go underwater? This was a new thought. He imagined himself at a beach, and found himself at Falme. Of course. No other beach was so prominent in his life. At this city, he had first proclaimed himself as the Dragon Reborn, although he didn't know it at the time. Later, he'd tried and failed to persuade Tuon, the Empress of Seanchan, to fight on his side in the Last Battle. Of course the Pattern would guide him here. After all, he didn't think of any  _ specific _ beach. Into the water he walked, headed roughly east. Thinking that the water parted around him, he strode down the dry sand for barely forty feet before encountering his first major obstacle: a sharp drop. He imagined himself floating down that cliff, and the water immediately flooded into him. 

Panicking, he imagined himself back in the city. Burn it, he’d have to constantly think about the water parting around him, wouldn’t he. No, there had to be a way around this. He walked back to the ocean, knee deep in water, and imagined that there was a bubble of air around him, permanently. The water around him fled, but as soon as he stopped thinking about it, it rushed back around his legs. Trying again, he simply put the thought in the back of his mind. This too, didn’t work. Then he thought of something better. As if Aviendha were there, he associated the bubble of air with her. She was quite literally sitting there, in the corner of his skull. Well, that's what it felt like, at least. If he’d brought her along, it’s what she would’ve wanted. Not that she would’ve been able to handle being surrounded by water anyway. Maybe he could bring Elayne and Min here later? That could be interesting. 

It worked as he wanted it to, and he went on his merry way, deeper and deeper. Finally able to focus on his surroundings, he saw a world of color. Bright fluorescent fish, strange plant-like things, and coral. From his life as Lews Therin, he remembered learning about how coral was a colony organism. All the unique shapes they grew into, and the “teamwork” inherent in their existence delighted him to no end, although Lews had cared nothing for it. As he floated down the cliff again, he spotted a very large shape form itself out of the depths. A shark. It must have smelled him from afar. As a whole, sharks seemed to be unchanged from how they were in the Age of Legends. The basic shape was optimal for underwater travel, so it made sense. It came close, a little too close for comfort. After being circled a few times, it must’ve realized he wasn’t something it could eat, and drifted back into the distance. 

Finally, he reached the bottom. Light, it was dark down here! How deep  _ was _ he? He never realized how fast he was going, he’d been descending for almost half an hour. From what he remembered of his scuba trips as Lews, it took massive depths to get this dark. At least half a mile, he thought. This was already several times deeper than he’d ever been as Lews, and the seafloor only dropped more from here. The ground around him was littered with dead crustaceans and other strange shapes. Ah, it was the air bubble killing them. Oh well, there wasn’t much he could do about that. Remembering that he couldn’t see worth a damn, he willed that he could see as clearly as above-water, and he could.... not. That should’ve worked. Maybe he had to make his own light? He imagined that he was glowing from every inch of his skin, and he was able to see for a second before his thoughts drifted. Ah, so it was like the trick with the water. He thought of it again, and this time “attached” the thought to what he could feel from Elayne, there in the corner of his mind. This time, the glow stayed. 

The sight took his breath away. On the seafloor surrounding him, he could see crabs, so many crabs. Some were  _ huge _ , the leg of one easily longer than he was tall. And floating around him, dozens of anglerfish, checking out the newcomer. They quickly lost interest in him, as he was far too large for them to eat. Far above him he spotted a pod of whales, probably sperm whales at the bottom of a dive. He peered into the distance, and to his surprise he saw a thermal vent, spewing strange smoke up into the oceans above. He ever so vaguely remembered reading something about the theory that those vents were the birthplace of life. Something about a hot soup of the right chemicals. He picked a direction -south, or maybe south-west by where he felt Min was- and started walking. 

Taking in the sights, he didn’t notice the lone fish-creature sneak out from behind an outcrop. He  _ did  _ notice the sound of song, though. It lured him closer, the noise did. Reacting quickly, he imagined that there were lumps of wax in his ears. Free of the lulling influence, he spun around and imagined a column of flames blasting towards the offending fish-thing. The flames didn’t even make it a foot into the water before being quenched. Right. Water. He managed to pick out a second song, and then a third. Just what he needed, not only did Aginor make aquatic Draghkar, but they hunted in packs. If fire didn’t work, then maybe… he reached his arm out, and thought that lightning shot out of his fingertips. His vision flared white, and he took a few seconds to blink it away. Then he felt a sharp pain in his arm. So lightning didn’t work either. He pulled a sword out of the air and thought that its blade sought out the hearts of these Shadowspawn. The song finally stopped. He imagined that the gash in his arm was stitched up and cleaned, and it was. 

He walked a bit further, and saw something odd in the distance. Was that a… ship? Walking closer, he realized it was a Sea Folk raker. He clambered up the side of the ship, and was greeted almost immediately by a pair of very dead skeletons. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters (yes, multiple) where Rand is under the Aryth Ocean is where most of the influence from Zorpisuttle comes in. As always, special thanks to her for beta-ing this fic.


	3. Here Be Dragons, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rand further explores the sunken Sea Folk ship, encounters a not-so-friendly squid, and learns to let others protect him.

Brushing the fallen bones off of him, Rand surveyed what seemed to be the captains cabin. Well, he supposed it was really the Sailmistress’ cabin. That was the right title. He remembered that much about his brief interactions with the Sea Folk. There was a chest with rust-covered bindings. He willed it was open, and it was. Within was an enormous amount of golden crowns from every sea-faring nation. Arad Doman, Tear, Illian, he even spotted some Tar Valon coins. Somehow, all were dry. Perhaps the chest was sealed with wax before the ship went under. A weave maybe? He knew most Sea Folk rakers had Windfinders that could channel, so it was possible. He leaned against the wall, and sliced his hand open on a barnacle. Immediately thinking that the cut was closed and cleaned, he scowled at the offending outcropping. Pushing against a wall in his mind, he willed that all the barnacles on the ship were naught but dust, and they were. 

Suddenly he felt exhausted. He’d never pushed the limits of his warping that far. He went and closed the door to the cabin, only as soon as he let go of it, it burst back open. Ah, it couldn’t stay open under the pressure of the sea. He willed that there was a solid block of stone in front of the door, and it stayed shut. Next he willed a bed into existence, laid down, and almost instantly drifted into unconsciousness. 

He awoke many hours later, imagined a bowl of oats, and ate before he continued searching the ship. Making his way to the other side of the ship, he entered a room where someone had slept, once. A skeleton lay on the bed. It had clearly been someone important: the room was almost the size of the Sailmistress’, perhaps the ship's Windfinder? Further inspection of the bones unveiled a small statuette found in the hand. That was definitely an  _ angreal _ , although he didn’t really know for sure. Definitely the Windfinder’s cabin then. She wouldn’t be needing that anymore, so he pocketed it. Even though Elayne had the Seed,  _ angreal _ were rare and took time to make. Searching the other cabins, he found nothing of note. Maybe if the rooms hadn’t been flooded for years uncounted, letters or other objects would’ve survived. Floating his way back down the side of the ship, he set his mind back to the seafloor. 

He picked a new direction, heading almost entirely south this time. Almost an hour passed before he saw his next obstacle. Yet another cliff. Again, he couldn’t see the bottom. This time, something told him this would be a much deeper drop. He stepped off the edge, and began his descent. Indeed, it was deeper. Much deeper. Remembering how long it took him to reach the bottom of the first cliff, he willed himself to descend faster. Even then, it took him almost an hour to reach the seafloor again. He had to be several miles underwater by now. New life showed itself to him. Mostly strange shelled creatures the size of horses. They almost looked like ticks. He looked up, and his eyes widened. A giant squid! Light, it had to be at  _ least _ thirty feet long. And it was looking straight at him. “ _ Oh no you don’t” _ he thought, as the massive thing reached its tentacles towards him, its beaked maw gaping in preparation for its next meal. 

Remembering his fight with the Draghkar-like Shadowspawn, he didn’t try fire or lightning. Instead, he willed a wall of stone to rise up around him. He needed to think. As he thought, he noticed he was getting colder. Thinking quickly, he imagined that his body was as warm as it would be on the surface. As soon as he went back to thinking of how to kill the squid, he felt the cold again. Right, he had to “bind it” to one of the women in his head. The only one left was Min. Warmth, and Min. Fitting. Although, did he really have to associate these thoughts with them? He tried cycling the thoughts between them, and it worked. Interesting. He then noticed that for once, he was letting  _ them _ protect  _ him _ , not the other way around. Rand smiled at that.  _ Rand, focus. You have a giant squid that wants to eat you just outside your bubble. Think. _

Couldn’t he just imagine it was dead? Reaching with his power beyond the barrier, he did so. Bringing down the wall around him, he saw that it indeed worked. He continued his undersea adventure, heading down the sloped seafloor, passing many of those massive insect-things. They didn’t seem to want to eat him, so he wouldn’t bother them. Several strange-looking fish passed him by: one he recognized as a goblin shark, although he thought he was too deep for them. Almost an hour of slight descent, and he spotted another thing in the distance. Another sunken Sea Folk ship? No, it was  _ far _ too large for that, and the silhouette was the wrong shape. It was a massive tube, with a block sticking out on the side…. a flaming  _ submarine _ ? None of those survived the War of the Shadow! How was one even in one piece?  _ What? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, a bloody submarine. He knows how to get into it too ;)


	4. Here Be Dragons, Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rand has some fun with Age of Legends tech.

He circled the sub several times looking for an entrance before he remembered that the entrance was on top. Or, would be on top if the thing wasn’t on its side. Rand floated up to the part of it sticking out, the sail? He couldn’t remember. The part with the hatch. As soon as he entered the airlock he saw the name engraved on the wall.  _ WDD Aend’rhadeim _ , the Ever-Prepared. Ironic, they weren’t prepared for whatever happened to them. Saying the name aloud, memories rushed back to him. 

“Where is the  _ Aend’rhadeim _ ? They should be there to break the blockade around Banta’al’Miere!” Lews Therin yelled. He didn’t have time for this! The war against the Shadow was going poor enough as it is, he couldn’t lose such an important city! Someone answered, “We haven’t had communication from them in several hours, sir. We’ve sent several messages to them, but none have been answered.” Tsag! What happened to them? Dismissing whoever had just spoke, he stood up to pace across the command room. What could’ve happened? If the sub was disabled then there would’ve been a signal sent out. Unless their comms system went down, that would do it. Sitting back down, he marked the Ever-Prepared down as AWOL on the command computer, and sorted through the device, searching for another option. He needed that city to stay in his control! 

Pulling himself out of his reverie, Rand continued through the airlock, into the quiet wreck. There was no one here. Not even skeletons, like in the raker. Of course, none of the crew were alive anymore, not even the strongest channeler could live three thousand years. He didn’t know the layout of the thing at all, so he wandered around for about ten minutes until he found what was probably the bridge. Surveying the room, he saw that none of the displays were active. The power must’ve run out. He also saw that he was walking on what would normally be one of the walls. He thought that he was able to walk as would be normal, and he was. Binding the thought to Min, he walked over to a terminal and pressed a button. Nothing happened. Of course, it’d been three thousand years, it was possible that the circuitry had frayed over time. Acting outside his zone -he’d been doing that a lot lately, was it expanding?- he willed that there was power in the submarine, and there was. Screens sprung to life all around him. In the center of the room, a light shone. A holographic projection! He peered closer, realizing it was of the surrounding seafloor. Apparently, he was in the bottom of a crevasse, but there was a…. town? There was a sunken town far above him on a plateau, to the south. Quite far to the south, if these numbers were to be believed. He would go there later, first he wanted to fully explore this ship. 

He found his way to the center console, and vaguely recognized the controls used for piloting the vessel. Resting his hands on those ever-so-tempting buttons, he considered whether he should actually do it. He stopped thinking about it, and pressed what he was sure was the “ON” button. Nothing happened. Right, the power was out. Where was the reactor in this thing? Not bothering to warp there, he wandered the interior even further. The first room he ventured into was what seemed to be the bunks for the crew. All their paraphernalia was still here: books, images of loved ones, medicines. Why would they have left all this… unless they were in a hurry to get out. Oh! The power must’ve gone out, that would’ve knocked out the comms. Without power the air filtration wouldn’t work, so the crew would have maybe an hour at most to evacuate the ship. The only weird thing was, an  _ inde’loftan _ reactor going offline was functionally impossible, it was unthinkable…. unless it was sabotaged. Next, he found what must’ve been the cafeteria, with what was probably a cold-storage room off to the side. Several half-eaten ration bars sat on a few trays, and piles of…. something goopy was on the rest. Indeed, it must’ve been a sudden evacuation. 

He made his way around, and found himself very interested in a locked door. He willed that it was unlocked, and cautiously stepped in. Something in here was dangerous, for it to be locked even on a military vessel. Ah, that would do it: shelves of enormous torpedoes lay in wait inside. So this submarine was still armed, further inspection of the launch tubes revealed that they were loaded. The next room he stopped at was the weapons locker, rows of shocklances and other weapons lined the walls and even the ceiling. He picked one up, and tried to do what he’d seen Mat do with his  _ ashandarei _ once. He hit himself over the head almost immediately, he wasn’t cut out for fancy tricks like that. It was a good thing he hadn’t turned on the lance. Setting it back in its slot, he picked up a rifle. Shooting it indoors was  _ definitely _ a bad idea, so he imagined it was strapped across his back. He would test it out later, probably once he was above-water again. He also spotted a rocket launcher, a handgun, and a  _ vream’manshima _ . Now  _ that _ was more his type of weapon. He imagined a holster and sheath for the gun and sword, taking them with him as well. 

Finally, after an hour of weaving his way throughout the corridors, he found the submarine's reactor. Problem was, he didn’t know at all how it worked, aside from that doing it wrong was extremely dangerous. He wasn’t sure if simply imagining it was on again would go as planned. Then again, that was the only way for him to properly do it, as he didn’t even  _ think _ about touching those flaming buttons. Doing it that way  _ certainly _ wouldn’t work.  _ Light, here goes nothing _ , he thought as he willed the reactor to be active again. He didn’t immediately die, so that was a good sign. Looking out into the halls, he saw that all the lights were on. Good, it had worked. He made his way back to the bridge. Everything seemed to be in order. Back at the pilots console, he hesitated for a split-second, then finally pushed the button. 

The sub  _ shuddered _ around him as the engines and other things aboard it hummed to life. He was now  _ morat'basho'miere'wakaput _ . He set his hands on the controls, guessing at the controls, with almost complete success. He managed to turn the vessel upright pretty quickly, and steered it towards the town. After much thought, he launched a torpedo at a faraway point of the seafloor, just to see what would happen. Not far enough. Whoops. The shockwave from the blast sent a shudder through the submarine, and some warnings popped up on peripheral screens. Damage somewhere, probably. Hopefully not the engine, or Creator forbid, the reactor. Well, from what little he knew of  _ inde’loftan _ reactors, if it’d got damaged in the blast, he would’ve already been dead. Him, along with everything for miles in every direction. Rand shivered at the thought. He wouldn’t be able to think a barrier up in time for that, nor one strong enough to withstand the blast. He turned to the map display, noting a large hole in the seafloor. Quite large indeed, had he aimed it any closer to him, the hull certainly would’ve breached. About an hour of near-full speed ahead later, and he was drifting above the undersea town. He could only wonder what was down there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About all the old tongue in this one: 
> 
> WDD: short for wakaput dumki dival, which is ship army light  
> banta'al'miere' means seat of the ocean  
> inde'loftan means non-material  
> vream'manshima means shockblade  
> morat'basho'miere'wakaput means controller of the ship beneath the waves, or literally: controller of the beneath the waves ship 
> 
> Once again, special thanks to Zorpisuttle for beta-ing. I probably don't need to say that every time, but I will. 
> 
> Oh and also, theres an old tongue dictionary https://www.tor.com/2016/12/20/the-wheel-of-time-english-to-old-tongue-dictionary/ here, check it out its pretty neat.


	5. Here Be Dragons, Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rand explores the underwater city, and discovers something surprising.

Before he departed the sub, Rand had a thought. Although it was unlikely, what would happen if someone from, say, Seanchan, found this ship? A nearly intact Age of Legends military vessel, easily a superweapon by today's standards, as further inspection of a screen in the bridge revealed that it was also armed with a dozen  _ inde’loftan _ missiles. In a war, the havoc such weapons would wreak on any side would be immeasurable. He imagined himself back in the reactor room, and then imagined that the reactor was simply  _ not there _ . There, that should solve that issue. There was still the matter of the weapons room, but that wasn’t much to worry about. Finally, he stepped out of the airlock and floated to the town below. 

No, it was more of a city than a town. By Third Age standards, at least. Even enormous cities like Caemlyn or Tear paled before the magnificence and numbers of cities in the Age of Legends. Paaran Disen itself, the crowning jewel of the Age, held upwards of a hundred million people at its peak. He doubted any of the “Great Cities” in this Age even held a million. His eyes narrowed. He  _ recognized _ this city. Could it be? As he walked through the outskirts of the city and into the center, he only grew more sure of it. This was Masnad’lagien, a minor trade and university town during the Second Age. A place only called home by a few hundred thousand: small for its time, but would be massive in this time. It was better known by another name: Syndon'fonnai'a'ghraem'allein, Birthplace of The All-powerful Man, hometown of Lews Therin Telamon. 

All the familiarities clicked into place, he headed towards the closest building he recognized: the city hall, where he had earned several local awards for athletic achievements in his youth. He walked through the water-logged doors, and memories slammed into the forefront of his mind again. 

Pristine, sun-darkened oak doors swinging wide for his entrance, Lews Therin stepped into the heart of Masnad’lagien, ready to receive the fourth and final first place medal on his  _ yaati'beatha _ sash. As it had been for the past four years, Barid Bel strode just behind him, in the designated position for the runner-up in the competition.  _ And second place is all you will ever be, Barid. I plan on it,  _ he thought, chuckling to himself. “Having won first place in the yearly tournament held by the College of Physical Expression, and as president of the College here, I grant Lews Therin his final award.” The man motioned for him to step onto the pedestal. The first place pedestal, of course. As he turned to face the gathered audience, he flashed a smirk at Barid, immensely pleasured by the angry scowl that came from it. 

As Barid Bel was called to the pedestal, the memory ended. The thing was still standing there, worn by time and water.  _ Light _ , he’d been a prick in his past life. Most of the ornamentation on the walls and pillars had fallen off or been washed away, although the walls themselves still stood, under immense pressure from what had to be at least three miles of water above it. A testament to the architecture of the Age. Leaving the hall, he wandered into the central square. What had once been a great chora-filled plaza was now just a flat expanse of dirt, not even a blade of grass survived the depths. Surrounding him, he could pick out many of the stores he’d frequented, long long ago. Off to the right was where the bakery used to be, they’d opened at 1am to make fresh goods each day. They did delivery orders -well,  _ every  _ self-respecting restaurant did deliveries, it was so easy in those days- so he’d made good use of that during his university days. On a whim, he imagined that he held one of their doughnuts in his hand, took a bite, and sighed. Not even the power to bend the Pattern to your will could create doughnuts as good as Dae’mamu Bachri’bah did. Next to that was one of the several small clothing stores scattered across the town, he’d been there occasionally. 

He pointed and spun, going down the road fate chose for him. He passed several houses he vaguely recognized, those of friends, perhaps? A few minutes later, he realized he was remembering more and more about this part of the city the further he went. He knew names, even faces, and some individual events with the people that lived there. It wasn’t long before he saw a house he immediately knew. His own. The one Lews Therin spent his childhood in. 

Somehow, it was entirely intact. No water damage to be seen, no wear and tear from three thousand years of high pressure. There was a bubble around it. He’d never visited the town after moving out, but apparently someone had thought to put a stasis field inside the house somewhere, at some point after he’d left. Maybe as a memorial? He didn’t know, and didn’t care: it let him explore his most ancient of homes just as it was in memory. As he walked through the doors, he paused, expecting more childhood memories, but none came into prominence. The very first thing his eyes latched onto was the crib he occupied as an infant. Above it hung an old mobile, decorated with (something???), which he remembered was a  _ ter’angreal _ of some sort. The  first he’d ever seen, probably. Moving on, he noticed a sword hanging on the wall, heavily ornamented. The sword he’d been gifted after re-inventing swordsmanship with Duram Laddel, better known as Be’lal. That was how they’d both earned their third names, becoming Lews Therin Telamon and Duram Laddel Cham. The very first blademasters of the Age. Lifting the sword off the wall, he went through the forms. It was a terribly weighted sword. Far too many gems in the blade and hilt. Made out of something strange too, it wasn’t regular old steel. Silver, maybe? Shaking his head, he hung it back on the wall. In the Borderlands, even the ceremonial swords were dangerous weapons. Frivolous wastes of good steel on things like this would be  _ very _ frowned upon. 

Next, he headed upstairs. Everyone slept on this floor: his parents, him, the siblings that time forgot. The siblings he had cast a shadow over, the siblings he had killed. He’d taken his entire family with him to the great mansion he’d lived in until the War of the Shadow began. His parents and two of his siblings had died during that War, and then the rest were slain by his maddened hand. Opening the intricately carved doors to his room, everything was just as he left it. The single twin bed sat on a frame in the corner of the room, a small nightstand next to its head. Covering two walls were an inordinate of trophies. He’d participated in almost every sport he could while he lived here. Then he’d invented an entirely new sport, and then won the world tournament for it every year for several consecutive decades. Sitting down on the still-soft bed, he ran his eyes across the countless sparkling objects. They used to be what defined him, his athletic superiority. Well, just his general superiority. That was long ago though, it was his old life. He wasn’t that much of a prick anymore. 

Leaving his old residence behind, Rand realized he didn’t know what building he wanted to check out next. Maybe the stadium was still standing? He imagined himself standing in the middle of it, and he was. The risers that would’ve surrounded him were not there, thin support bars crushed and the seats themselves swept across the ground by the undersea currents. Shame, he would’ve liked to see its grandiose expanse in the flesh again. Turning south, he walked out of the town, and floated himself down the next cliff, seeing something faintly bulbous floating in the waters below. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the old tongue this time around:   
> Masnad’lagien is trade town  
> Syndon'fonnai'a'ghraem'allein is Birthplace of The All-powerful Man, but thats mentioned in there  
> Yaati'beatha is physical art  
> Dae’mamu Bachri’bah is greatmothers breadbox  
> I just love how old tongue words are just other words strung together with an apostrophe. The Randlanders did it with their cities, like Al'cair'rahienallen and Mafal Dadaranel, and I assure you the Age of Legends was EVEN MORE flamboyant with their names than those Third Age rats ever were hehe.


End file.
